Waking up Temperance
by razztaztic
Summary: AU: If you dreamed you were Temperance Brennan, what would you do differently?
1. Chapter 1

The three best friends enjoyed their weekly happy hour, choosing this evening to sit on the patio of a Mexican restaurant near Alice's condo to take advantage of the warm weather and sunshine. They spent an hour, and one pitcher of margaritas, trashing the man one of them, a blonde named Susan, had recently stopped seeing. Accompanied by a fresh pitcher, they continued listing the faults and flaws in every other man they knew, bemoaning the unworthiness of the male sex in general.

"I blame their mothers," Susan said, tipping the third pitcher to refill her glass. "They raise these precious little boys, doing eveything for them, telling them how special they are and how they deserve everything, and who gets stuck paying that bill? We do." The three women clinked glasses together.

"Damn straight," Meghan agreed, her chestnut ponytail swinging.

"Preach," Alice nodded, tossing her head as the wind brushed strands of inky black hair over her face.

"I mean, are we really asking that much?" Susan continued. "Is it too much to want a man who understands responsibility? A man you can count on. A man you can trust. A man who . . ."

"Has a job!" Meghan snorted. The glasses touched in another toast.

"I mean, I know we can't expect perfection, right? We have to compromise on some things. You know, settle." Susan made a face. "It's not like I'm expecting a romance novel hero to come walking in here."

"You need to be kissed, Miss Scarlett, and kissed often!" Meghan added a raised eyebrow to her very bad imitation of Clark Cable.

"I could be happy with Mr. Darcy," Susan added, resting her chin on her palm.

"As long as he looks like Colin Firth!" Alice exclaimed. Once more, the glasses clinked.

"I'm thinking, Heathcliff," Meghan sighed.

"Ewww, no thanks," said Susan, shaking her head. "There are plenty of mad, tortured men out there to choose from right now."

"I'm holding out for Booth," Alice said simply, dipping her chip deeply into the guacamole.

"Oooooh, Booth."

"Booth."

Meghan and Susan spoke together, then the three glasses touched rims again.

"Now, there's a man you can trust."

"Honest."

"Strong."

"Sexy as hell."

"I would buy a whole roll of tickets on that ride," Alice laughed

"The way he looks at Brennan," Meghan sighed.

"And she doesn't even know!" Susan exclaimed. "How can she not know?"

"Oh, she knows," Alice nodded knowingly. "She has to! She just ignores it, because she likes her nice, safe little world."

"I'm just saying," Meghan added, spreading the last of the three pitchers between the three glasses, "that if the man brought me Chinese food at midnight, I would not let him leave. Am I right?" She looked at each of them. "Am I right?"

Cries of agreement rose from her friends as they raised their glasses together once more.

"Just once, when she opens the door and he's standing there, I'd like to see her throw herself at him! Jump him, right then!" Meghan laughed. "Show us the good stuff!"

"At least get his shirt off," Susan giggled.

"Oh, yea," Meghan smiled back, fanning herself ostentatiously with one hand. "Definitely get him shirtless."

"I just wish he had some chest hair," Alice sighed. The other two women looked at her with raised eyebrows. "What? I like chest hair!"

"It's too bad men like him don't really exist," Susan sighed, frowning at her drink.

"It makes for good TV, though," Alice answered. "And good books. That's why we watch shows like that and read romance novels – because it's a way to escape into a perfect world with the perfect guy."

"And then we go back to mommy's precious little boys," Susan grimaced. She looked at her watch, then motioned to the waiter. The women finished their drinks and gathered their things as the waiter handled their money and credit cards.

Outside the restaurant, the women said their goodbyes with hugs and kisses on the cheek and promises of email about where to meet the following week. Meghan and Susan hailed a cab to share; Alice shut the door behind them and waved as the cab pulled out before turning to walk the few blocks to her building.

At the corner, she waited with a small group of people for the light to turn. Behind her, two teenagers began arguing loudly over what seemed to be shared possession of a Nintendo Wii game system, and whose turn it was this week to keep it at home. The argument escalated into shouting, then Alice was jostled roughly as one of the boys fell against her.

"Don't push me, bro!" he straightened, lunging for the other boy.

Dodging the outstretched hands, the other boy reached out again and shoved violently. Alice, one foot in the air as she stepped off the curb with the change in the signal, felt herself go off balance as the first boy was thrown into her again. Her reflexes dulled by the alcohol, she faltered as she went crashing down to the street, the sound of her skull hitting the pavement reverberating loudly in the small crowd.

.

.

.

.

Alice woke groggily a few hours later, her head pounding. She lay quietly in bed for a few moments, taking stock of her body and trying to place any injuries she might have received from being shoved into the street. Not all the pounding was coming from inside her head, she realized as the sound of someone banging loudly on her front door filled her apartment. She got out of bed slowly and shuffled to her bedroom door.

"Ouch!" Her eyes watered when her knee banged against an unfamiliar object in the dark hallway. "Who the hell moved that . . ." Limping now, she struggled to open the locks on the door, cursing beneath her breath when one of them seemed to stick. Finally, she opened the door with a jerk.

"What? Do you know what time it is? Somebody better be dying . . . ." Her voice faded to nothing.

Seeley Booth stood at her front door, two cups of takeout coffee in hand.

"No, he's already dead. Or, she's already dead." He muscled his way past where she stood unmoving, blocking the way into her apartment. "Bones, why aren't you dressed? I called you an hour ago." He put the coffee cups down on the sidebar, tapping a light switch to flood the room with a warm glow. "Come on, chop chop!" he clapped. "We've still got an hour's drive to the crime scene." Alice stared, mouth hanging open. "C'mon, Bones, you've had less sleep than this before." With his hands on her shoulders, Booth turned her toward her bedroom and walked her down the hallway to her bedroom. "Get dressed. The clock's ticking."

Thoughts whirling, Alice stepped into the room. Moonlight cast a pale glow over an unfamiliar room; she looked around in shock until she saw another door in the corner standing open at an angle. She pushed it wide, fumbled for the switch in the corner and then exclaimed in shock as the small room filled with bright, clear light.

The reflection blinking back at her, one hand covering her mouth, belonged to Dr. Temperance Brennan.


	2. Chapter 2

Temperance Brennan stared back at her from the mirror. The reflection blinked when she blinked, lifted her hand when she lifted hers, bared her teeth when Alice bared hers.

She was Temperance Brennan. Alice closed her eyes, counted to ten and opened them quickly. The same image stared back at her. She crossed one arm over her chest and watched as her reflection pinched it hard.

"Ow!" _Okay, okay, I'm awake_, she thought, shaking her head briskly. The low throb of pain reminded her of the last thing she remembered before . . . _BEFORE SEELEY BOOTH WAS AT MY FRONT DOOR! _she thought, screaming silently at her reflection. She forced herself to take several deep breaths. _Think,_ she whispered to herself. _The last think you remember is . . . _

. . . stepping off the curb, getting pushed from behind and . . . .nothing. _Okay, so_, she nodded at the mirror, _you're in a coma. Or,_ her eyes widened, _you're lying in the street dying. _She shook her head. _No, you're not dying. You're lying in your bed with your head wrapped and bleeding and you're dreaming. This is all just a dream._ She looked around the luxurious bathroom, a very different room from the compact, functional bath in her own apartment. _A very detailed dream._

"Bones!" she heard Booth calling through the door. "Bones! What's taking you so long?"

She watched in the mirror as her eyes narrowed. _A very detailed dream. But still a dream so . . ._ She opened the bathroom door, raised her chin and strode down the hallway. Booth stood at her music shelf, inspecting several CDs lying loose in front of the organizer. He turned when he heard her steps. "Bones, why haven't you changed? Do you want . . ." She shut him up the easy way – she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.

She felt the instant of shock that went through him before his arms encircled her and he was kissing her back. She cupped his face in her hands as their tongues dueled, running her hands over his skin and through his hair as he pressed her closer to his chest. Her thoughts spun like a tornado – he tasted just as good as she'd imagined. His chest was harder than she'd ever thought. His hands on her back were . . .

. . . pushing her away, putting the length of his long arms between them. They stared at each other, their breathing laboured. "What was . . . why did you . . . Bones?" He swallowed. "What was that about?"

Alice took a step back, her eyes locked on his, her heart racing. "Let's call it . . . an experiment," she whispered, before racing back down the hall to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

_If this is a dream_, she spoke to her reflection,_ please don't ever let me wake up._


	3. Chapter 3

Alice stood just inside Brennan's well-organized closet. _My__ closet_, she told herself. _I__'__m__ Brennan__. __Until __I __wake __up__, __I__'__m__ Brennan__. _A wide smile covered her face. _I__'__ll__ be __Brennan__ who__ just __kissed __Booth_, she giggled quietly.

"Bones! Are you coming or not?" A not-so-small thread of impatience was audible in his voice.

"Getting dressed now!" she called out. "I'll be out in ten!" Alice took a few steps deeper into the closet, running her hands through the rack of slacks and jeans grouped by color and style, to blouses and casual shirts, organized on opposite sides of the closet based on sleeve length, and within sleeve-length by color and fabric. She looked with longing at the rows of dresses and gowns and skirts, silently promising herself to dig into those at a later time, before choosing jeans and a bright red, sheer long-sleeved blouse, rummaging through the drawers of the built-in dresser for a more concealing tank top to layer underneath. _Now_, she thought, rubbing her hands with glee, _where do you keep your shoes, Brennan?_ She tossed the clothes onto the bed and opened a door on the other side of the bathroom. _Bingo!_ she thought, flipping the light on and stepping inside the second closet.

Obviously professionally installed, the small room was lined on both sides with shelves designed to store shoes and boots. On the wall opposite the door stood two chest-high dressers whose wide, narrow drawers proved to contain Brennan's eclectic assortment of jewelry. Alice, however, hummed in disappointment. The shelves built to hold literally hundreds of pairs of shoes were mostly empty. Three pair of tall, black leather boots with heels of varying heights, along with a variety of other boots of different styles and heels occupied the lowest broadly spaced shelves. There were several pair of rugged work boots and sensible leather loafers with nonslip soles and two shelves dedicated to sneakers and running shoes. Otherwise, scattered sparsely over the remaining shelves were clear plastic boxes, their contents wrapped in tissue and a photo of the shoes within taped to the outside of the box. Alice shook her head at the empty space on the shelves. _Brennan_, she thought, _I __am __definitely __taking__ you __shoe __shopping__._ She grabbed a pair of black boots and hurried to get dressed.

When she finally joined Booth in the living room, he greeted her with a frown. "You did hear the part where I said 'dead body,' right?" he asked with a nod toward her light, feminine blouse.

Alice frowned back. "What, I can't look pretty at a crime scene?"

Booth stared at her, mouth open. "Bones, you always look . . ." He stopped and looked at her, his head tilted. "Are you okay?"

"Of course, sure, I'm fine," she mumbled, not meeting his eyes. "We should go, right? Dead body and all?" She grabbed the bag lying on the sidebar and headed to the door. Booth followed her out, his expression betraying his confusion.

Alice barely restrained herself from skipping a step at the sight of the black SUV double-parked in front of the building, and once she was seated inside, from laughing out loud. She couldn't, however, stop the wide smile that stretched her lips as she settled back and watched Booth pull into traffic. _I__ am__ sitting __in__ the __SUV__ . . . __THE__ SUV__! . . . __with__ Booth__!_

He glanced over quickly and caught her grin. "Are you going to let me in on the joke?" he asked, with his own smile.

"Nope," she shook her head. "You wouldn't believe me if I tried."

"Okay." He shot a questioning look in her direction, shook his head and concentrated on the road ahead. More than once, he felt her gaze on him until finally, he broke. "What?" he asked "Do I need to blow my nose or something?"

Alice smiled back at him. "You really are gorgeous, you know that?"

Booth blinked in surprise and then smiled broadly in her direction. "Thanks, Bones. Maybe you could have picked a better time but, thanks." He shook his head again and looked back at the road, still smiling.

"Oh, right," Alice said, trying to distract herself from that Boothy grin. "You should probably tell me about the body and the crime scene and stuff."

"And stuff?" He glanced over briefly. "Are you sure you're okay? Have you been watching TV? Did you get a TV?"

_Damn_, Alice cursed silently. _I forgot Brennan doesn't talk like a normal person._ "I'm fine, Booth. Maybe I'm still just tired." She nodded. "Yes, that must be it. I'm just tired. So . . . please tell me what you know about the crime scene and the remains. If it is a crime scene, I mean. Which remains to be determined, of course." _Oh, that's good, Alice. Remains. Try to remember to say 'remains' a lot._

"Okay." The look Booth shot her way told her he wasn't totally convinced by her feeble explanation. "A body was found in a warehouse near the Aberdeen Proving Grounds. That's what I know, until you see it and do your bone thing and tell me more."

"Right . . . my bone thing." Alice swallowed and looked out the window at the passing scenery. _Bone__ thing__? __I __teach__ first __grade__! __The __only __bone __thing __I __know__ is __the __leg __bone __is __connected__ to __the __foot __bone __song__! __Fuck__!_ Eyes closed, she rubbed small circles into her temples. _I __liked __this __dream__ a __lot __better__ when __I __was__ kissing__ Booth__. __Wake __up__, __Alice__! __Wake__ up __before __you __make __a __fool __of__ yourself__!  
><em>

"Bones?" Booth's quiet voice interrupted her musings. "I was kidding about the bone thing. You know I value your work and I didn't mean to insult your abilities."

"What?" Alice looked over in surprise. "I'm not insulted. No, no. No, not insulted. No. Nooo. I'm not. I just . . . I have a headache." _Oh__, __you__ have __no __idea__. _"That's all. I just have a headache. I hope it doesn't affect the quality of my work at the scene. With, you know, the remains. Of the victim. The deceased. The dead person." Her voice trailed off. _Oh__. __My__. __God__. __I__'__m __going __to__ have __to __look __at __a__ dead__ person__. __A__ real __live __dead __person__. __Or__, __what __used __to __be __a __live __dead __person__. __No__, __a __real__ dead__ person__. __A __body__. __Oh __my __God__. __Wake__ up__, __Alice__!_

"Well, okay then," Booth said, pulling into the warehouse parking lot. "As long as you're okay." He shot her a strange look as he parked, exhaling with a low breath. Alice got out and stood beside her door, unsure of what to do next. With a whistle, Booth drew her attention to where he stood at the back of the SUV. "Bones, back here. Don't you want to put these on before you go in there?"

"Oh, right! Yes, absolutely." She took the pair of coveralls he held out to her. "This is probably a new shirt. I mean, it looks like a new shirt. No, it is, I mean. I remember buying it. Well, obviously, I'd remember buying it because I buy all my clothes, right?" _Shut __up__, __Alice__. __Just __shut __up __and __put __on __the __coveralls__._ She was saved from the questions she could see coming from Booth when he was called over by a local police officer. He went, but not without searing her with a glance first. Alice forced herself to breathe deeply as she drew on the coveralls and zipped them up. _You __are __Brennan__, __you __idiot__! __Brennan__ doesn__'__t __chatter__! __Be __cool__, __calm__, __unemotional__. __Calm__, __cool__, __unemotional_, she repeated until it became a silent mantra running through her mind. _Calm__, __cool__, __unemotional__. _Nodding to herself, she walked over to join Booth and the officer.

"I was driving by and noticed some light from inside, looked like it might have been a little fire or something," he was telling Booth. "We get vagrants, homeless people, that sort camping out in these buildings every once in a while so I stopped to check it out. Three of 'em scattered when I got here, so I put out the little fire they'd built and was looking through the rest of the building when I saw it. Didn't realize what it was until I saw the skull." He looked at Alice. "It's pretty bad. I'm not sure the lady should see it."

"This is my partner, Dr. Temperance Brennan," Booth responded. "She's a forensic anthropologist with The Jeffersonian. She's seen everything."

Alice looked at the officer with a small smile. "Everything," she nodded. _Oh__, __God__, __I__'__m__ so__ dead_.

"Okay," he shrugged. "Follow me."

Alice and Booth walked a few paces behind the officer as he led them into the darkness of the warehouse. A few yards in, Alice stopped abruptly, covering her mouth and nose with her hand..

"Oh, God, what is that smell?" she choked out. Booth and the officer exchanged looks.

"That would be the body, Bones." Booth stepped closer. "What is going on? You usually don't even notice the smell."

Alice spoke from behind her hand. "Maybe I'm coming down with something. I'll be fine." Slowly, she lowered her hand, wondering how long she could remain standing if she just held her breath from now on. She looked at both men with a small smile. "I'm fine. Carry on," she waved at the officer. He shrugged his shoulders and moved on. Alice followed grimly, determined not to waver again. The smell became stronger the further they went into the warehouse until finally, the officer stopped and pointed to a tattered bundle of rags on the floor.

"There it is." He folded his arms over his chest and stepped back.

Alice stood beside Booth, staring down at the rags from which she could see discolored bones poking through. Booth looked down at her with a raised eyebrow. "Well?"

"Oh, right," she jumped. "The bone thing." She took a cautious step forward, reaching inside the front pocket of her coveralls for the latex gloves she'd noticed earlier. Slowly, she knelt down and brushed aside a few bits of ragged cloth.

"Male or female?" Booth asked.

"Uh . . ." Alice hesitated. _How__ the __hell __am__ I__ supposed__ to __know__?_ she thought. _I__'__m__ a __first __grade__ teacher__ and__ this __is __just __a __dream__! __A__ dream__ that __lets __me__ kiss __Booth__! __I __didn__'__t __know__ I__'__d __have __to __smell __dead __bodies__ or__ look __at __real __bones__!_

"Bones?" Booth asked again.

Buying some extra time, Alice shifted more of the dirty cloth away from the skull. "Wait . . ." she said suddenly. "Male!" She looked over her shoulder at Booth. "I know this!" She looked back at the skull and pointed. "See the pronounced brow ridge?" She turned it to expose the back of the skull. "And the external occipital protuberance? Oh, wait!" Excited, she removed more of the rags from the torso and pelvic region of the remains. "Yes! See the pelvis? Definitely male. Definitely male." She straightened and smiled broadly at both men. "I know this!" _How__ do __I__ know__ this__?_ she wondered to herself.

"Well, yea . . ." Booth answered, staring at her in confusion. "Of course you know this. You're the best forensic anthropologist in the world, Bones."

"Yes," Alice nodded, squaring her shoulders. "Yes, I am." She gestured behind her to the bones lying on the floor. "I need all of this taken back to the lab, Booth." She spoke sternly, hoping her voice sounded authoritative. "For analysis. All the cloth and the rags and everything. It's all got body . . . stuff all over it."

"Body stuff."

"Oh, yea," Alice said. She looked back at the remains and nodded proudly. "All kinds of body stuff."


	4. Chapter 4

Alice stood back as the FBI technicians gathered the remains, as well as the cloth fragments, trash and samples from the soil that surrounded the body, and prepared them carefully for shipment. She watched from the corner of her eye as Booth signed the paperwork handed to him and generally, she thought as she told herself not to stare at him goofy-eyed, stand there and look gorgeous. Evidently, her efforts not to stare goofy-eyed were unsuccessful, given Booth's confused expression as he caught her stare.

"Careful with my remains!" Alice called out into the silence, thinking that was sufficiently Brennan-like to throw him off track. And it worked, as he immediately turned to watch the technicians finish up.

She kept a half-step behind Booth and the local official as they exited the warehouse, listening and watching as the two men exchanged cards and contact information. She followed Booth as he broke away toward the SUV and was standing next to her door when his phone rang. A few seconds of terse conversation later, he looked over the hood of the vehicle at her.

"I have to go back to my office. Would you mind going with the techs to the lab?"

"No," she answered. "Not at all."

"Smithson!" Booth called out. The man in question paused before shutting the rear door of the transport vehicle.

"Agent Booth?"

"Bones is going to ride with you to the lab." Booth followed her over to the vehicle and opened the back door for her. "Give me a call if you find anything, okay?" he said to her as she slid in and reached for the seat belt.

"No prob," Alice answered, smiling up at him.

"'No prob?'" He shook his head at her. "Whatever channel you're watching, I think you've seen enough of it, Bones."

Alice blinked and cursed silently. "Right. Of course, I meant to say that I will make sure I contact you if my team discovers anything pertinent."

Booth murmured his goodbye, shut the door and slapped the roof of the car, his expression inscrutable as he watched it drive away.

Alice let the conversation of the techs in the car fade to the background during the trip to The Jeffersonian. She didn't know if Brennan actually knew the men in the car and she was wary of making more mistakes. She was also, she admitted to herself, very apprehensive about being in the lab. _Now__ would __be __a __good __time __to __wake __up__, __Alice_, she whispered to herself again, eyes closed in concentration. _You__ know__ what __they __say__, __you __can __fool __all __of __the __people __some__ of __the __time__ and __more __of __the __people __none __of __the __time __and __a__ few __people__ . . . __forget __it__, __you__'__re __screwed__. __These__ people __are __geniuses__ and __you__'__re __not __and__ they__'__ll __know __that __immediately__. _She pinched her arm hard but despite her eyes watering in pain, nothing changed. _Dammit__._

The FBI vehicle pulled to a stop at an electronic gate at the rear of The Jeffersonian. After a few seconds, the driver turned around. "Dr. Brennan? Do you want to use your access card or do you want us to go through security?"

Alice blinked uncertainly. "Access card?" Her mind blanked, then cleared. "Oh! Access card. Right. Access card. I've got one of those." She twisted in her seat as she fished through her pockets, coming up empty. "Uh . . . I guess I don't have it with me." She grimaced.

The driver shrugged and reached out to push a button on the control box of the gate. A few minutes later, a guard opened a door next to the garage entrance and walked briskly over. The FBI personnel in the car all passed their identification through the driver's window. The guard inspected the badges carefully, writing the names on the form attached to his clipboard. He passed them back through the window, leaning down to peek into the back seat. Alice wiggled her fingers at him in a friendly wave.

"Hi! I'm Dr. Temperance Brennan. I seem to have forgotten my ID badge." She smiled brightly at him. "I work in the lab. With the dead people."

The guard raised his eyebrows. "I know who you are, Dr. Brennan," he said. He shared a glance with the driver, who raised one shoulder. "What kind of cargo are you bringing into The Jeffersonian?"

"Human remains," the driver answered.

"A dead person," said Alice at the same time.

The driver and the guard looked at each other again before the guard stepped back, writing on his clipboard. He put a key into the control box, turned it to the left and watched as the garage door raised. "You're clear to enter. I'll let them know upstairs you're on the way."

The vehicle drove slowly down the ramp to the labyrinth that was the unloading and receiving area beneath The Jeffersonian. When they parked, Alice opened her door and got out, staring open-mouthed in amazement at the hum of activity as crates of varying sizes were removed from trucks and vans and flatbeds. "Wow," she breathed.

"Dr. Brennan?" The FBI techs had commandeered a rolling cart and had secured the boxes with the remains from the warehouse carefully on it. "We're headed upstairs now, unless you'd like these to be taken elsewhere."

"No, no," Alice came back to earth with a start. "Upstairs. Definitely upstairs. Please, after you," she said, waving them forward. _Especially __since __I __don__'__t __know__ where __the __hell __I__'__m __going__._

She followed them carefully as they wove their way unerringly through the maze of crates and boxes and packing material to a wide service elevator. All too soon, the elevator stopped and she stood off to the side to allow the techs to push the cart into the brightly lit, wide open spaces of the lab. Alice took a deep breath, sent up a silent prayer for help and followed the cart.

She looked around curiously as they made their way to the forensics platform. A glance up at the skylight reminded her of the early hour so she was surprised to find several staff members already working at some of the equipment that filled the space. A security guard ran his card through the scanner, allowing the FBI techs to carry the remains up to one of the stainless steel tables. She hesitated briefly before following them, one foot on the bottom step.

"Dr. Brennan." Alice turned around as Camille Saroyan walked around the corner, pulling a white lab apron over her dress. "Booth sent me a text message and said you were coming in with some remains. What do we have?"

"No clue," Alice shrugged. "I mean," she continued quickly as she saw Cam's head tilt curiously, "the conditions in the warehouse were . . . um . . not conducive to a thorough examination. All that I have been able to ascertain is that . . . er. . . the remains are those of a Caucasian male, probably in his 40s."

"Okay," said Cam, swiping her access card and walking up the platform. "Let's see what he can tell us now."

Alice followed quickly in her wake. "Oh, you're wearing my favorite dress!" she gushed as she noticed the line of bright pink down the center of the back of the deep purple dress. Cam stopped abruptly and turned to face her.

"I didn't know that you ever noticed anything I wore, Dr. Brennan," she said with a slight smile.

_Shit_. "Um . . . yes," Alice mumbled, looking anywhere but at Cam. "You have wonderful taste in clothing. I just didn't want to say anything before."

Cam smiled. "Have you been reading that book on improving interpersonal relationships again, Dr. Brennan?"

"Yes!" Alice said, grasping at straws. "That's it. Yes, I have. Yes. Definitely. It's a fascinating book." She nodded. "Very educational."

Cam raised her eyebrows and held back a wider smile. "Well, thank you, Dr. Brennan, for the compliment. It's also one of my favorites." She turned to the body being laid out on the table, pulling on protective gloves with a snap. "Does Booth suspect this man was murdered?"

Alice frowned as she looked at the bones. "Isn't that what we're supposed to find out?"

Cam opened her mouth, closed it quickly and then nodded once. "I apologize, Dr. Brennan. Of course, that is why we're here." She lifted a humerus carefully. There is still tissue here. I don't know if it will be possible to get DNA but we can try. I'll take samples and leave the rest to you."

By the time Cam had finished collecting samples of the bits of desiccated tissue clinging to the remains and turned to go back to her office, Arastoo Vaziri had arrived and was climbing the stairs to the platform. "Good morning, Dr. Brennan, Dr. Saroyan," he said cheerfully, nodding at both of them. _Thank__ you __God__,_ Alice breathed silently.

"Good morning, Mr. Vaziri," she said in what she hoped was a brusque but professional tone. "These remains were discovered last night in a warehouse. We need to establish identity and time and cause of death."

"Of course, Dr. Brennan," Vaziri said, walking slowly around the table thoughtfully. "Should I start on collecting samples of any particulates and insect material or wait for Dr. Hodgins?"

"Keep your hands off my bugs!" Hodgins called out as he joined them on the platform. "What do we have here?" he added, looking down at the body. Alice repeated the instructions she'd just given Vaziri and answered Hodgins' follow-up questions about the location and the other material the FBI techs had collected.

Seeing that both men were absorbed with the remains, Alice took her opportunity to escape. "I'll let you two work and . . . I'll just be in my office if you need me." She quickly left the platform and then slowed as she realized she had no idea where "her" office was. _Upstairs__, __I__ think_, she told herself as she headed for a set of wide stairs. _I__'__ll __know __it __when __I __see __it__ - __let's just hope__I__ see __it __fast__!_

Sure enough, not far from the top of the landing was the large, airy space that was the office of Dr. Temperance Brennan. Alice went in and collapsed on the sofa. _God __bless __Aunt __Bea_, she complained silently, her forearm over her closed eyes. _Why__ can__'__t __I__ ever __just __have __regular __sex __dreams__ like __a __normal__ person__? __I__ couldn__'__t __just __hit __my__ head__, __see__ Booth __naked __and __jump__ him__. __Of __course __not__. __Who __else __but __me__ would __keep__ their __sense __of __smell __in __a __freaking __dream __that __involves __corpses__? __Fuck__._ She adjusted the pillows beneath her head. _Maybe__ if __I__ take __a __nap__, __I __can __start __all __over __again__. __With __naked __Booth __this __time__.  
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"Brennan?" Angela's voice preceded her into the office. "Oh, did I wake you?" she asked after seeing her spread out on the sofa. She strolled over and perched on the arm. "The boys told me you were up here."

"I wasn't asleep yet, although I was hoping to get there," Alice grumbled as she sat up.

"Someone's grumpy this morning," Angela smiled.

"You have no idea," Alice muttered as she stood up and stretched. "Besides, my morning started at about 2:30 when Booth showed up pounding on my door."

"And did you answer the door wearing a slinky little bit of nothing?" Angela purred, grinning broadly.

"Ha!" Alice laughed and smiled back. "No, but if he's going to keep showing up in the middle of the night, I just might have to buy a whole new night time wardrobe!"

Angela looked at her in disbelief. "Did you just make a joke about seducing Booth? Please tell me you finally see the light!"

"I think I'd rather stay away from the light," Alice said under her breath. At Angela's questioning look, she shook her head. "Never mind. Let's just say, I've decided to make a few changes. So . . ." she added, with another big smile. "How would you like to go shoe shopping during lunch today?"


	5. Chapter 5

Alice scrolled through the contact list on Brennan's phone, smiling as she pulled up Booth's information. _Of__ course __he__'__s __number__ one __on__ speed __dial__. __Girl __is __slow__, __not__ stupid_, she snorted silently. She pressed and held the button labeled 'one,' listening as the call connected.

"Booth."

The little devil sitting on Alice's shoulders grinned. "You have something I want," she said, letting her voice drop seductively.

On the other side of the line, Booth paused, rechecking the display on his phone. "Bones?" Her low, sexy chuckle had him shifting uncomfortably in his chair as his body responded to the husky tone. He cleared his throat roughly. "Okay . . . um, what would that be?"

Alice mentally slapped a hand over her little devil's mouth before it could speak. "I believe I left my bag in your vehicle when we left the scene this morning," she answered, laughter in her voice. "Angela and I are going shopping and I need my wallet."

Booth shook his head to get rid of the images causing sweat to break out on his forehead. "Right. Your bag." He cleared his throat again. "Yes, you did. I hid it under the seat so it would be safe in the garage."

She couldn't resist. "So, how would you like to give it to me?"

Miles away, Booth opened his mouth to respond automatically, then closed it with a click of his teeth. He stared through the glass door of his office for a brief moment, then grinned to himself. Whatever game this was, he could play, too. "That's up to you. When do you want it?"

_Oh__, __God__, __I__'__m__ flirting __with __Booth__!_ Alice's smile was so broad, she felt the ache in her cheeks as she checked to make sure no one was watching her make a fool of herself. "I am ready whenever you are," she answered.

His eyes narrowed. "Really. What if I said I was ready right now?"

Alice picked up a pencil and drew circles on a pad of scratch paper. "Then I guess I would have to ask how long it would take you to get here," she said softly. "With my bag, of course. Because that's what we're talking about. My bag. Right?"

"Right," Booth murmured softly. "Right. Your bag." He shifted in his seat again, adjusting the hardness under his zipper induced by this conversation and his over-active imagination. "Unfortunately, although I am 100% ready at this very moment, my schedule is packed this afternoon. I won't be able to . . . uh. . . give it to you until later." Just barely, he stopped himself from groaning out loud. "Your bag, I mean." He rolled his eyes and gave up, hoping if he stopped this conversation right now he'd be able to walk to the Director's office in 10 minutes standing up straight. "I've got to go. I'll pick you up tonight and give it to you then." He pressed the phone briefly into his shoulder as he pinched the bridge of his nose with the other hand. "I'll give you your bag tonight when I pick you up," he added, very precisely, when he spoke again. "I'm pretty sure it has your keys in it, too."

Back in Brennan's office, Alice had one hand covering her mouth, trying not to laugh out loud as she listened to Booth trip over his words. "That sounds fine," she responded when she could speak without giggling. "I'll wait for you here." The call disconnected and she allowed herself another wide grin as she stared at the phone. _Aren__'__t__ you__ just __the __cutest __thing __ever__, __Agent __Seeley __Joseph __Booth__!_

She allowed herself to daydream a few minutes longer before looking at the time on her computer. Barely after noon, several long hours to go until Boothy-time, Alice knew she couldn't avoid going down to the forensics platform any longer. She grabbed a blue lab coat hanging from a coat tree near the door as she walked out, noticing as she put it on that Brennan's access card was in the pocket. _One __problem__ solved__, __a __million __more __to __go_, she thought with an inward roll of her eyes.

Scanning her card, she walked up on the platform, noticing as she did so that Mr. Vasiri was the only other person there, watching in the monitor as he moved the magnification lens over the bones. He glanced at Alice as she joined him. "So far, I haven't been able to identify any obvious signs of trauma or injury, Dr. Brennan," he said. "There are signs of rodent activity," he added, pulling the lens over the ribcage and pointing out tiny groves and scratches made by the rats that had feasted on the corpse, "but nothing that would indicate a possible cause of death."

Alice just barely managed to keep her face expressionless. "Let's clean the bones to remove the remaining tissue and then examine them microscopically," she said with a nod. "Angela can have the skull for identification."

An electronic chirping accompanied Angela as she joined them on the platform. "Does that mean no shopping during lunch?" she asked, pointing at the bone covered table.

Alice nodded. "Booth has my wallet anyway, so maybe we can reschedule for tomorrow?"

"Hey, since tomorrow is Saturday maybe we can make a day of it," Angela suggested. "Breakfast and shopping followed by lunch and shopping. As long as, you know," she gestured again to the table, "this guy doesn't object."

Alice hesitated, unsure of the protocol in situations like this. "I don't know if there are time constraints involved right now," she said slowly. "I'll check with Booth and let you know."

"Sure," Angela nodded, her casual attitude giving Alice cause to relax. "Booth's the boss."

"Booth is the boss?" Cam asked with a smile as she came up the steps. "Please don't let him hear that."

"Brennan and I were just talking about taking a day to do some shopping tomorrow, and wondering how our newest guest figures into the timing," Angela explained.

"Ah," Cam nodded. "Well, the tissue is unusable as it relates to DNA," she said. "So, we don't have an ID and we don't have cause of death and we don't have time of death . . ."

"Do not defame me so," Hodgins bounded up the steps. "I can't tell you who and I can't tell you why or how, but I can tell you when." He waited expectantly and then shook his head. "Don't everyone talk at once. Our gentleman friend here has been dead for approximately 18 months." When he began to go into detail about bug pupae larvae casings eggs something or other, Alice turned back to the remains to avoid the possibility of falling asleep on her feet from boredom, right in front of him.

She moved the magnifier across the ribs again, examining once more at the teeth marks left by the rats. Mostly, she just wanted to look as if she knew what she was doing, but then she heard herself speak.

"Not every death is a homicide," she murmured.

"Pardon me, Dr. Brennan?" Cam asked, moving closer.

"I said, not every death is a homicide," she repeated. "Obviously we still have tests to run, but it's possible this isn't a homicide. Every death is a tragedy, of course," she added, "but it's possible this was a drug overdose or . . ." she paused and looked at Hodgins. "Eighteen months ago, it was January. He could have been a homeless person seeking shelter and he froze to death." She shrugged. "I'm just throwing out possibilities."

"It's too early to rule out any scenario," Cam agreed. "Right now, anything is possible."

Deciding she'd managed to avoid trouble long enough, Alice thought it was time to head back to the safety of her office. "Please get right to work on cleaning the bones, Mr. Vasiri," she said, stuffing her hands in her pockets. "Let me know when you're done." He nodded as she turned away and left the platform.

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The afternoon stretched into some of the longest hours Alice could ever remember. Apparently, cleaning bones and running tests on bugs took a lot longer than she imagined. She flipped pages in the forensic journals and magazines in Brennan's office for an hour or so, and then poked around Brennan's computer files. One folder, labeled Book 4, looked particularly interesting but turned out to be password protected and no matter what word or combination of words she tried, Alice was frustratingly unsuccessful in getting it open.

As the day drew to a close, the lab slowly began to empty. Cam stuck her head in Brennan's office to say goodbye followed by Angela, with whom Alice spent a few minutes making final plans for the next day's shopping excursion before she and Hodgins departed. Finally, Mr. Vasiri came in to give Brennan a status report on the progress of the bones before he, too, left for the evening with a promise to contact her with updates over the weekend. Before he finished, Booth was standing in her doorway. He gave Alice a half-smile that sent her heart thumping irregularly and then quizzed them both on what they'd discovered during the day. When they (or, more accurately, Mr. Vasiri) had given him all the answers they could, the intern nodded his goodbye and left.

The room suddenly felt too small, the air thin and oxygen deprived. Alice busied herself shutting down the computer and straightening items on the desk. Booth looked at her uncertainly, the suggestive conversation earlier playing like a soundtrack through his brain. Finally, Alice straightened from the desk.

"Okay, I think that's it. Are we ready?"

There was a flicker in his eyes that tripped her already unsteady pulse, but he only backed up to hold her door open for her. They walked downstairs together quietly until they reached the elevator for the parking garage. Booth jabbed the button and looked over at her. "Sorry I couldn't get over here today, to get your bag to you. Did you miss your shopping lunch?"

"Oh, don't worry about it," Alice responded with a wave of her hand. "Angela and I are having a girls day tomorrow. We're going to shop till we drop," she added with a broad smile at him. The elevator door opened and he gestured her inside first.

"I thought you considered shopping a necessary evil. I can't see you spending a whole day at it, just for fun."

"Yes, well . . . . I'm . . . I'm broadening my horizons," Alice stammered. "For Angela. You know, a bonding thing."

"A bonding thing?" He looked at her with one raised brow.

"Um . . . yes." Alice spoke slowly, fishing through her brain for Brennan-ish words and phrases. "Shopping together can sometimes act as a non-aggressive means for women to lower their barriers and engage in conversation not suited for other environments." _What __the __hell__? __I __don__'__t __even __know__ what __that __means__, __God__ knows __Booth__ isn__'__t __going __to __have __a __clue__._ That seemed to be true, as Booth only gave her a confused look and a nod as they exited the elevator. "Anyway," she rushed on, eager to change the topic. "That's my Saturday. What are you doing?"

Apparently that was the right question to ask as she was rewarded with a dazzling, Boothy smile as he opened her door. "Rebecca is dropping off Parker tonight and I have him until 6:00 tomorrow. Tonight we're going to watch monster movies and eat pizza and junk food and tomorrow, the Nationals play the Phillies and we have seats right on the third base line."

"That sounds like a fun day!" Alice grinned back, even as she mentally canceled plans to drag him off to bed the moment they arrived at her apartment tonight. Adjustments could be made . . . "So," she continued as they passed through the garage exit and merged with traffic. "Since you don't have Parker tomorrow night, would you like to have dinner?"

"Sure," Booth shrugged, shooting her a brief glance. "What are you thinking about? That new place in Georgetown?"

"Actually," Alice hesitated. He was watching the road and didn't notice the nervousness that laced her fingers together in her lap, or see the warmth in the look she shot at him. "I thought you might come over to my place. I could cook something."

Booth's right hand clenched on the steering wheel as their conversation earlier flashed through his mind. When he glanced over she was looking at him, a tiny smile curving her lips. He swallowed and made an effort to keep his tone casual. "Sure. Yea. Sounds good." He rolled his shoulders and cleared his throat softly, looking over at her again. She held his gaze for a brief moment, her smile wide, before she turned her head straight.

"Good." She sneaked a peak him him through the corner of her eyes and her smile grew. "Good."

Booth double-parked in front of her building and walked with her up to her apartment. He stepped inside and swept the room with practiced, deadly eyes before, satisfied, he turned back to the door. "So," he paused as Alice took a step closer. "You'll call me if the squint comes up with anything." Alice nodded silently, taking another small step that brought her into his space. "And," he added, stretching his chin to ease his sudden discomfort at her nearness. "I'll see you tomorrow night."

"Umm hmmm," Alice murmured as she gently placed her left hand on his shoulder and pressed a kiss to his cheek that just grazed the side of his lips. When she stepped back, his eyes were still closed. "Tomorrow night." When they flickered open, the heat in their melted chocolate almost made her gasp. His jaw clenched.

"Tomorrow," he repeated. His gaze locked on her lips as the tip of her tongue snaked out to moisten them, then held her eyes again. He backed slowly over the threshold, holding her gaze.

"Goodnight, Booth," she whispered with a smile, shutting the door slowly. Taking a chance, she put an eye to the peephole and watched, heart pounding, as he stood there for several more minutes staring at her door, before finally turning away.

Alice turned and slumped against her door, eyes closed. Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, she squealed suddenly, dancing across the room with her arms wrapped around her waist. Finally, she flopped back on the sofa and lay there, sprawled out.

There was a brief moment of silence and then she screamed, punching the air and kicking the sofa in her excitement. And then she laughed, staring over her shoulder at the door.

"Oh. My. God."


	6. Chapter 6

As a general rule, Alice enjoyed shopping. Even when she couldn't afford to buy anything (which, given her teacher's salary, was true most of the time), she enjoyed wandering through boutiques and department stores, taking note of new trends and silhouettes and colors. And trying on shoes, because if she had a weakness for anything, it was shoes. Especially razor thin stiletto heels. For Alice, no evening out was a success until at least one other woman looked her up and down and said, "I don't know how you walk in those things." In her own body, Alice loved her heels because of the extra inches they added to her very average 5'4 height. She didn't mind having a smaller, leaner frame, even though that also meant having no real breasts to speak of, but she resented being short. So, she bought height.

The first thing Alice noticed about Brennan's body was that she was no longer short, even in the lower, more sensible height of heel Brennan seemed to favor. The second thing she noticed, especially when she got to the dressing room with the first armful of clothes she wanted to try on, was that Brennan had boobs. Necklines Alice could wear without attracting a second glance were just this side of indecent when Brennan wore them.

When she stepped out of the dressing room in a simple green summer dress, Angela's mouth dropped open. "Whoa. Cleavage, aisle three."

Alice looked down at her chest in disappointment. "It's too much, isn't it?"

"Well, not if you're trying to get a discount on car repairs," Angela laughed. She walked into the dressing room and picked up a sheer black shirt covered in intricate bead work hanging with the other things Alice had decided to purchase. "You weren't kidding when you said you were going to make some changes, were you? What happened? Why now?"

Alice was still examining her reflection in the mirror, turning this way and that way as she tried to decide if she were confident enough - even as Brennan, who most definitely did not suffer from a lack of confidence - to wear this dress, overflowing cleavage and all. She caught Angela's eye in the mirror and shrugged. "Life is short. If you don't stop and look around, you might miss it."

Angela blinked. "Did you just quote Ferris Bueller to me?"

Alice looked away quickly. "Who?"

Angela folded her arms across her chest and cocked her hip. "All right, Brennan. You will tell me what is going on, right this very minute."

Deciding against the dress, Alice pulled it over her head and passed it to Angela to put back on the hanger and picked up the next garment. Playing for time, she examined the lacework cut into the copper linen. "Why does something have to be going on? Why can't I just make some changes in my life?"

"Because you're Temperance Brennan, and I'm pretty sure you mapped out your life when you were 10 years old," Angela huffed. She glanced at her watch. "It's 2:30 and we have been shopping since 9:00 a.m. There are more shoes in the back of your car than most people can wear in a year, and you can't wear any of them in the field with Booth. You spent the last hour buying lingerie. And now you're trying on pretty little summer dresses and yes, they're beautiful but I've never seen you wear anything like them, even on your days off. Have I left out anything?" Angela's hands were now on her hips as she glared at Brennan.

Alice slipped the linen dress on and turned her back so Angela could zip it up. "Well, I invited Booth over for dinner tonight," she said, hiding her smile.

"Tuh. You guys are always . . ." Angela stopped abruptly, put her hands on Alice's shoulders and turned her forcefully around. "Define dinner." Alice smiled broadly but remained silent. Angela's mouth dropped open, closed once and opened again. "Do you mean . . . Are you . . ." She paused and clapped her hands over her mouth. "Is this the first . . . Have you two . . ."

Alice laughed at Angela's reaction. "I think it's time, don't you?"

"Yes!" Angela screamed. She grabbed Alice in a tight hug. "Yes! Okay, you have to call me first thing tomorrow morning and tell me everything!" At Alice's raised eyebrow, she laughed and backtracked. "Right, probably not tomorrow morning. Monday, though, you and me, your office. Early. First thing! I want to hear everything!" Angela flipped through the remaining garments quickly. "What are you going to wear? What are you making for dinner?" She gasped and turned back to Alice with wide eyes. "What time is it? Do you need to go to the salon? Is that how you're wearing your hair? Do your legs need a wax? Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

Alice was bent over laughing. "Stop," she held up a hand. "Please stop." She took a deep breath and got herself under control. "I think I'm wearing the blue dress we found at Neiman. Dinner is taken care of. I'm not doing anything different with my hair and neither my legs nor anything else needs to be waxed. I'm good." She laughed again at Angela's expression. "I think you're more nervous than I am! It's just sex, Angela."

Angela grabbed her shoulders and gave them a shake. "Do you know how long I've been waiting for you to have sex with Booth? Don't ruin this for me!" At Alice's broad grin, Angela chuckled and pulled her into another hug. "I'm only half joking, you know."

"I know," Alice said, still smiling.

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Two hours later, Alice slid the last box of shoes in place. In her opinion, there were still entirely too many blank spaces on those shelves but for now, she was happy. She walked into the closet where she'd hung the new things she'd bought and paused, deep in thought. Considering the amount of money she'd spent that day, she expected to feel a stronger wave of guilt. Then again, as she'd had to repeatedly remind herself, it wasn't as if either the money or even she herself were real. Not here, anyway. Which had seemed completely plausible when she'd used that reasoning as justification for buying those black patent leather Christian Louboutin peep toes. If somewhere back in real life she were really lying strapped to a hospital bed, this dream was a much better way to pass the time than listening to the machines beep. Alice smiled at her thoughts. _Hot __shoes__, __hot __guy__ - __I __should__ have __cracked __my __head __open __a__long __time __ago__. _

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Showered, hair gleaming, makeup discreet, Alice padded into the kitchen to check the pasta she'd dropped into boiling water a few minutes earlier. Satisfied, she poured it into a colander to drain and went back to the bedroom to finish getting ready. She slipped the dress she'd chosen over her head and turned to the mirror.

Not exactly Brennan's style, she agreed silently with Angela, but definitely Alice's style. Intricate crochet lacework in ice blue shimmered over a finely woven cotton knit underlay in the same shade, the scalloped lace edges falling just to the top of her knees. The wide shoulders left her arms bare and managed, barely, to rescue the deep cleavage from impropriety. Deceptively simple, with a price tag to match, the dress skimmed gracefully over her body while the color set off her eyes and contrasted beautifully with her dark hair. _All__ in __all_, Alice thought as she added a touch of rose pink to her lips, _not __a__ bad __day's__work__._

Turning off the lights behind her she was standing at the door to the bedroom when she heard her front door open.

"Bones, you left your door unlocked again." She heard the hint of ire in Booth's voice as he walked through the entrance way. "How many times do I have to tell you . . ." his voice died away as he turned the corner and saw her standing in the hallway. His eyes traveled her body slowly from head to toe, and back up to lock on her face. Even from where she was standing, she saw him his throat move as he swallowed and felt the temperature in the room suddenly rise. "Wow," he managed, his voice husky. "You look . . . wow."

Alice smiled as she stepped toward him. _No, __definitely__ not __a__ bad __day__'__s __work__._


	7. Chapter 7

There is something very satisfying about being 'that' woman, the woman that puts 'that' look in a man's eye. The look that says he's forgotten how to breathe, that his heart continues to beat only because it needs no command from him. The look that is as physical as a touch, that shimmers over a woman like butterfly wings against bare skin.

Walking toward Booth, she felt all the power of being that woman. Oh, she knew he wasn't seeing her, Alice. She knew the heat, the fire, the promise of that look was for Brennan.

_But__ Brennan __isn__'__t __here__, __is __she__?_ Alice thought, unconsciously adding to the sensual sway of her hips as the walked down the hallway toward him. _Finders__ keepers__._

She came to a stop directly in front of where he stood, his eyes locked on her, a bottle of wine held in front of him like a shield. He wore black slacks and a deep blue shirt left open at the neck and oh, my, didn't that color look beautiful on him. Unable to stop herself from touching him, she brushed his shoulder to remove an imaginary speck of dust. "You look pretty wow yourself," she said, smiling up at him. More up than usual because . . .

"You're barefoot," Booth said, staring at her coral tinted toes.

Alice looked down and laughed. 'You're early," she responded. "When you're early, you get bare feet." Another chuckle escaped her. "And if you knew how many pairs of shoes I bought today, you'd see the irony in the fact that I'm not wearing any right now."

As if he were brushing his fingertips against her skin, she felt his gaze travel slowly from her toes past the sheen of her bare legs, over her hips to linger briefly on the visible swell of her breasts before pausing at her lips and finally, to look into her eyes. "You're beautiful, Bones." With her breath locked somewhere in her lungs, Alice could only respond with a wide, brilliant smile. Booth cleared his throat and looked down at the wine as if it were the first time he'd noticed it.

"Wine. I brought wine," he said, lifting the bottle.

"That was a very good idea," she nodded. "Maybe you could pour us each a glass now? Dinner is ready, I just have to put it all together." Apparently, he knew his way around Brennan's kitchen because he followed her in and went unerringly to the right place for both the wine glasses and the corkscrew.

"It smells great," Booth said, inhaling deeply. "mmmmm, what's that?" he asked as she removed a foil covered plate from the warming tray beneath the grill in the center of the oven.

"Eggplant," she answered as she brushed the slices lightly with olive oil. "Salad is in the fridge, if you'll put that on the table. I'll bring this right in. Oh, wait!" she called out as he turned away. She took one of the wine glasses he still held and sipped. "Very nice," she smiled as she handed it back to him. "My glass is the one with the lipstick."

"Yea, that's really not a good color for me," he grinned back.

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"This is good, Bones," he said a few minutes later, twirling his fork into the pasta. "I'm not really a fan of eggplant, but this is good."

'It all depends on how it's cooked," Alice responded, taking a sip of wine. "When I was little, my mom made eggplant Parmesan and my brother refused to eat it until she told him it was pizza. It became a family joke," she laughed. "Whenever he said he didn't like something, someone would say, 'It's just pizza, Sa...Russ,'" she corrected herself hastily.

"Rebecca and I used the one-bite rule with Parker," Booth said. "He always had to take one bite, and if he didn't like it, he didn't have to finish it. Now we can't keep him full!"

"Well, he's a growing boy," Alice replied as they shared a smile. "Speaking of Parker, how was the game today?"

"It was great! We didn't catch any foul balls but the Phillies won, 6-2!"

"It was Roy Halladay against Jordan Zimmermann," Alice huffed. "Of course the Phillies won. When Strasburg comes back next year, we . . ." Her voice trailed off when she noticed the expression on Booth's face. She hid behind her wine glass to avoid looking at him. "I . . . I Googled . . .I've been doing some research . . . an idea I had . . . new book . . ." _Mother__ fu__..._

"You're going to write a book about baseball?" He didn't look convinced.

She cleared her throat nervously. "It's just an idea . . . for, you know, a character . . . maybe . . . just a thought I had."

"Well, you know, Bones, if you have any questions about baseball, you don't need Google. I'm right here! I'd love to help with one of your characters!" He leaned in a bit, giving her that gorgeous Booth grin. "And then maybe I could read your book first, huh? As a consultant?"

She blinked, dazzled by that smile. "I'll consider it."

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After dessert, small bowls of fresh berries topped with honey-lemon sorbet, the two of them worked together to clear the table. The act, and the light conversation that filled the air, had a very companionable feel to it, Alice thought, a sense of being a familiar activity between friends. The only difference was the faint buzz that surrounded them, a buzz she was entirely sure was not just in her head. Throughout dinner, she'd looked up to find Booth's eyes on her, the expression in them causing her breath to lodge somewhere in the middle of her throat. They had each found numerous reasons to touch the other, whether it was strong fingers resting lightly on a bare arm to accentuate a point he was making or a slender hand grasping his forearm in thanks as he refilled her wine glass. Nothing obvious or extreme but just enough to heighten the sense of awareness that scorched the air between them.

That same awareness leached some of the oxygen from the kitchen as they bumped hips and hands and shoulders unnecessarily as they rinsed dishes and filled the dishwasher and transferred leftovers to storage containers. Finally, for her own self-preservation and to give herself some time to plan her next move, Alice shoo'd him out with instructions to put music on while she made coffee. He left willingly, but not before almost destroying any sense of equilibrium she possessed when he ran one hand down her arm from shoulder to fingertips as he walked by. Only remembering what she'd paid for the dress she was wearing stopped her from dragging him down to the floor with her immediately. When she was finally alone, she faced the sink and took a deep breath. _Oh__ my__ God__._

She made coffee, tossing out one scenario after another in her mind as she wondered how best to get Seeley Booth out of his clothes. _It __has__ to __be __natural__,_ she thought, rejecting somewhat reluctantly the thought of just walking out of the kitchen naked. _It __has __to__ be __Brennan__-__ish__, __whatever __the hell that __means_, she grumbled to herself.

"Bones," Booth interrupted her planning. "Who is Gretchen Parlato?"

Carrying two cups of coffee prepared the way they each preferred, Alice figuratively girded her loins and walked out to join him. "She's a new jazz artist. Her voice is amazing - haunting, soulful, I've been really impressed with her music. She sings the most delicate lyrics and puts so much life into them." She nodded at the CD he held. "That's a great choice." She smiled broadly at him. "It's not Foreigner, but it's good."

He grinned back and, with a shrug, inserted the disc, hit 'shuffle' and joined her on the sofa. He leaned forward for his coffee as the music filled the room.

_Even__ if __you __say __goodbye__, __I __still __love_

_Even __if __a __dream __may __die__, __I__ still __love_

"This is a duet, obviously," Alice said over the song.

"hmm," Booth murmured, sipping his coffee, listening.

_Even __when __things __fall __apart__, __I __still __love_

_Even __if __you__ break __my__ heart__, __I __still __love_

"She is good," he said, settling back on the sofa.

_No __beginning __and __no __end__, __I__ still __love_

_Love__, __so __love __comes __back a__gain__, __I __still __love_

Sitting at the end of the sofa, Alice turned toward him, tucking her feet beneath her. As the song faded into silence, Booth leaned forward, placed his cup on the table and looked over at her.

"What's going on here, Bones?"

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><p><em>"Still" Alan Hampton, Gretchen Parlato, from the album "The Lost and Found." And seriously, if you like jazz, you should listen to her. She's awesome.<em>


	8. Chapter 8

_AN: I'm pretty sure I managed to keep this below an M-rating. If after you read it, you think I should upgrade the rating, please let me know. _

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><p>.<p>

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Alice lowered her coffee slowly. "What's going on here?" she repeated. "Well, we had a nice dinner. We shared a great bottle of wine." She stretched her legs until she could tuck the toes of one foot under his knee. "And now we're having coffee and relaxing and . . . enjoying each others company." Her heart began to beat a little faster as the atmosphere in the room tensed.

"Enjoying each others company," he said, sitting back and stretching one arm along the back of the sofa, his expression inscrutable as he stared at her.

"Well, I'm certainly enjoying yours," she teased. "What do you think we're doing?"

"So, this is just a friendly dinner."

Alice shrugged one shoulder daintily. "A friendly dinner. Between friends."

"Between friends."

"Ummm hmmm."

Booth shook his head slowly. "No."

"We're not friends?" She arched one brow as a slight smile curved her lips.

"We've shared a lot of dinners, Bones." Booth said, his eyes moving over her face. "This," he waved one hand around the apartment, "this is different. That dress," he added, his gaze heating as it roamed over her, "that dress isn't about friends."

The air around them thickened as she adjusted her legs and slid along the sofa until she was next to him, turning so that she faced him directly, her torso angled slightly over his lap. "Maybe there's a reason for that," she said softly. And she leaned forward and kissed him.

In an instant, he took over. His arms locked around her as the force of his embrace bent her over the arm of the sofa. She lifted her arms and linked them around his neck, pressing herself closer to him as the kiss they shared threatened to devour both of them. For long minutes the heavy whispers of their breathing and the shallow sounds torn from their throats by their desire for each other mingled with the sultry sounds of jazz as the music played on. The kiss continued until with one hand tangled in her hair, he pulled her head back, opening her throat to his exploring lips and tongue. His teeth grazed the skin below her ear and bit lightly at the spot where her shoulder joined her neck, drawing an ecstatic cry to God from her before his head forced her further back as his mouth moved down the center of the valley between her breasts, exposed by the dress she'd dared to wear.

Unable to bear any more of his caresses without touching him in return, she abruptly pushed him away and shifted to straddle his lap. Roughly, she pushed his head back with hers and put her teeth on his neck while her hands busily began unbuttoning his shirt. Finally, finally! it was open and she was able to touch that smooth, hard expanse of skin. He was so warm, so hot, beneath her hands she felt sure she could feel the heat singe her fingers as she ran them over the sculpted muscles of his chest and shoulders. She could feel his arousal from her place on his lap and rocked sensually back and forth, the friction the most wonderful sense of painful pleasure she'd ever experienced.

His hands slipped just beneath the hem of her dress where it had ridden high up on her thighs. She shivered as she felt his fingers slide beneath her, behind her, caressing and squeezing her pliant flesh as he explored her body. His hands slid further up and stopped.

"Bones," he forced the husky words out. "Have you been naked under this dress all night long?"

Still rocking slowly against him, she playfully nipped at his ear. "You say that like it's a bad thing," she laughed softly.

With a groan torn from his gut, his head fell against her shoulder as he mumbled...something. Not being Catholic she couldn't be sure, but she thought he was reciting the Rosary and the idea had her giggling.

And then, abruptly, he lifted her from his lap and sat her away from him, further down the sofa. She reached for him again but he lifted one hand. "No. Stop. Just for a minute. Stop."

She leaned back and drank in the sight of him, and God, he was so gorgeous sitting in front of her, his shirt open, his skin flushed with desire, the fire in his eyes only marginally banked.

"Something . . . this isn't . . ." Frustrated, he ran a hand through hair already mussed from her own actions. "Something is different. Something is going on that I don't understand and I can't . . . I have to know before anything else happens."

Unnerved, unresolved passion adding an edge to her composure, Alice stared at him. "What's different? What's wrong?"

"I don't know!" he exclaimed. "This is just . . . You're . . . Why?" he demanded, looking at her with a frown. "Why now?"

"Why not now?" Alice answered back hotly. "How long have you known . . how long have we known each other? Isn't it time? Haven't you waited long enough?"

"Haven't *I* waited long enough? What the hell does that mean?" He stood up and paced a few steps from the sofa, spinning back to face her angrily. "You're doing me a favor? You're doing me the favor of having sex with me because *I've* waited long enough?"

"No," Alice answered loudly. 'I'm not doing you a favor! I'm . . . I'm doing US a favor! I . . I don't understand what's wrong? What does it matter, why? I just want to. Okay, I just want to."

"That." He stepped toward her, pointing with his index finger. "That's what's wrong with this. It feels . . ." He grasped for words. "It feels temporary."

Stunned, she stared back at him. "Well, so what if it's temporary? Sometimes, all you get is temporary, that's why you should reach out and grab it when you have the chance."

He was shaking his head before she finished. "No. No. I don't want temporary. I'm not interested in temporary. Not with you." He looked deeply into her eyes. "And you know that."

Alice blinked in confusion. "You . . . you don't want me? No, I know that's not true. I felt . . . I can see . . ."

Booth paused in the act of buttoning his shirt, leaving it hanging untucked. "I want you, Bones," he nodded, heat smouldering in his eyes. "I want you so much it's a physical ache. Not just . . ." he paused, looking away. "Not just in my body, but here," he said, spreading his hand over his heart. "I can't believe I'm walking away from this. But it just doesn't . . . It feels off." He shook his head. "This is too important, we . . . us . . . you are too important to me. I can't take the chance. It can't be temporary."

"You're leaving? Seriously?" She stared at him, her mouth open in shock.

"I'm leaving. For now. So you'll have time to think about this. About why now. Why the rush. What this means, to you." He stood next to her, where she sat on the sofa. "You know what it means to me."

He ran a hand over hair, leaned over to press a kiss on the top of her head, and left.

Alice sat in the quiet for several minutes, her thoughts spinning in all directions.

_What the hell just happened?_ She stood up and turned to stare at the front door, then picked up a pillow from the sofa and threw it across the room. "THIS IS THE WORST DREAM EVER!" she raged.

She stomped down the hallway to the bathroom and glared at the reflection of Temperance Brennan that stared back at her from the mirror. "This is your fault!" she yelled at her image. "Even in a goddamn dream he's so in love with you he only wants you! It's my dream, my delusion and I can't make him play with you unless it's for keeps!" She grabbed a hand towel and threw it at the mirror. "You suck!" she said childishly.

She stalked into the bedroom and flopped onto the bed. "This is bullshit. I can smell a corpse but I can't get laid? It's my dream!

"Bullshit. This is bullshit." She lay there fuming, stewing in her anger and irritation and disappointment, until she dropped off into a restless sleep.

.

.

.

.

It was the repetitive beeping that woke her. Thinking it was her alarm clock, she reached out with one hand to silence it and came fully awake when her arm refused to follow her brain's instructions. She felt it lift fractionally, heavier than usual, then fall back to the bed. Her eyes fluttered open briefly before closing again as the bright lights sent shards of pain stabbing through her head.

"Alice?" A woman's quiet voice came from somewhere near her knees. "Honey, are you awake?" The feathery touch of loving fingers stroked her cheek. "Ed, turn down the lights." From behind her closed eyelids, she noticed as the light dimmed and slowly lifted her lashes again. Darker this time, the room slowly came into focus and along with the room, the woman who stood beside her bed, dark hair streaked silver, new lines of worry etched into her skin. "Oh, thank God," she breathed.

From the foot of the bed, a plump, balding man wiped away tears and squeezed her calf. "I'll get the doctor, Helen. Welcome back, baby," he said, with another squeeze to her leg before he hustled out of the room.

"What happened?" Alice asked, her voice like sandpaper. Her mother carefully lowered herself on the side of the bed, stroking her arm.

"You fell into traffic and hit your head. They thought it was just a mild concussion but then there was swelling in your brain and you lost consciousness." Her mother blinked back tears. "You've been gone for nine days, baby. Nine days."

"I'm sorry, Mom," she whispered roughly. Her mother shook her head and leaned over to kiss her cheek.

"You are back with us. That's what matters."

Alice was finally able to lift her arm and gingerly felt for the bandage she could feel on her head. "My hair?" she asked, pouting a little. Her mother smiled and nodded.

"Remember when you were 13 and went through your punk rock stage? You shaved one side of your head bald and left the other side long?"

Alice groaned and fell back against the pillows. At that moment, the door opened and several people rushed in, surrounding the bed and the machines and forcing her mother and father to the side. "Well, young lady," said an older man wearing scrubs beneath his lab coat. "It's nice that you finally decided to join us." He glanced over at her parents. "If you'll excuse us for a minute?"

Her parents smiled at her and left the room holding hands. Alice closed her eyes, resigned to the poking and prodding and questions as the medical staff took over.

She turned her head into her pillow and sighed heavily.

_"Angela is going to be so disappointed."_

_._

_._

_._

* * *

><p><em>Don't hate me! I just couldn't let Booth have sex with anyone but Brennan and Alice, despite what she saw in the mirror, wasn't Brennan. I let her have a cookie, but the whole pie belongs to Brennan. It just does. <em>

_Thanks for reading! And as always, reviews are very much appreciated!  
><em>


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